Conclusion to Knots
by jeffperry
Summary: Everyone has left Jeff's house and he can't stop thinking about heat. Or Britta.


A/N: Just wrote this to avoid studying and because I think I've read like every J/B fic out there! Please be kind, haha. So this takes place in Intro to Knots, after everyone has left Jeff's house and he's by himself. There are so many stories about Britta's POV and I think it's obvious from the show she's re-gaining some old feelings for Jeff, so I wanted to focus on Jeff's feelings in this story. I don't own anything to do with Community, or else it would be a Jeff and Britta porno, to be honest. Enjoy!

* * *

Jeff sits on his couch, and stares at the wrapping paper that had covered Britta's cat calendar. The red and gold paper sits on the coffee table, covered with little cats wearing Santa hats on it. He doesn't even remember who got Britta the calendar, but he can imagine her putting it up on her kitchen wall. But he shouldn't be imagining it. He shouldn't be thinking about Britta at all. Guilt swarms his brain as an image of Troy floats to his mind. He pushes it away. No one knows he's thinking about Britta, so he's technically safe. Jeff pulls a wine glass to his lips, revolted with himself. No one knowing isn't the point. He shouldn't be thinking about Britta.

"Jesus," he mutters, dropping the wine glass on the coffee table, realizing it had been the one Britta was drinking out of earlier. He wonders if she's alone in her apartment the way he is in his. Probably not. She's probably at Troy's. Jeff's chest thumps anxiously. But he couldn't be the only one over-thinking this, could he? Britta actually referred to their year of secret sex as dating. Yes, he did once call her a "catch to date," but it was just a clever phrase. Or maybe despite Britta's tough act, she actually thought they had a real relationship. Or maybe she was just trying to push something that wasn't there, like she always is. Or maybe this is some new psychiatrist thing.

Jeff's thoughts wander to Cornwallis and his words on friction and heat. The moment he had uttered those words, Jeff's mind flew to second year, when Britta would come over and they would have sex all over his apartment. Jeff looks at the couch, remembering how Britta straddled him, and gets up. He walks away from the couch, before turning around and swiping up the cat-covered Christmas paper.

/

"Hello?"

"Hey," Jeff says into his phone, trying to decipher Britta's tone. Is she alone? "Are you home?"

"Yeah, whatsup?" Britta asks. Jeff frowns. Her tone is neutral.

"I'm outside your place, can I come up?" Jeff asks. There's a pause.

"Uh, sure." Britta coughs and hangs up immediately.

Jeff grabs the Christmas paper sitting in the passenger seat of his Lexus and unbuckles his seatbelt with a snap. After locking his car, he jogs lightly up to Britta's apartment, and takes the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Jeff knocks on her apartment door, not knowing what to expect. What if Troy answers the door? Fuck, he's sweating, Jeff Winger is actually sweating. A shooting concern of sweat marks and wrinkles on his shirt nudge a corner of Jeff's mind when the door opens and Britta is standing in front of him.

Jeff takes a minute to take her in. Her lightly curled hair flows in front of her shoulders and all around her. She's still wearing her dark dress, but she's barefoot and isn't wearing tights. Jeff sneaks a glance at her lower body. Britta's right foot rests on her left calf. And….she smells like smoke.

"Are you…smoking again?" Jeff asks. A mischievous grin plays on his mouth. For all everyone knew, Britta had quit smoking in their first year, and so must be stressed or unhappy if she's started up again. The lawyer in Jeff ran in circles. Was Britta unhappy with Troy? Jeff's smirk deepens before he corrects himself and attempts a neutral expression.

"Is that what you came here to ask me?" Britta asks testily. "Come in, psycho," she says, and turns around, padding into her living room. Jeff follows her, relieved at her snarkiness. There's no awkwardness about the Cornwallis situation, and it's like nothing's changed.

Not much has changed in Britta's apartment either. The small tv is still there, and so is the couch. A couch, Jeff reminds himself, where Britta straddled him just as many times as she did on his own couch.

"Here," Jeff says. Britta turns around and accepts the red and gold wrapping paper from Jeff.

"You came over to give me garbage?" she asks, crossing her arms.

Jeff grins. "Well, you know, you're into the environment and stuff, I figured you'd have a better way to recycle it or whatever."

Britta rolls her eyes. "I don't know how you expect me to recycle a piece of wrapping paper that has tape all over it-"

Jeff shrugs. "I should go."

"You're being weird," Britta says. For some reason, Jeff is reminded of his words to Abed three years ago. _I think you are really weird, Abed_. A nervous flutter erupts in Jeff as he recalls him and Britta acting as Abed's parents.

Jeff nods. "I know," he says. He smiles, and leaves.


End file.
